“What’s going on?” Akilah asks, noticing my upset.
I stop dead, trying to think. “I don’t know. Something and nothing. But maybe something. I need to make a phone call.”
Scarlet
It’s been thirteen days since I fell at David’s doorstep. Recovery has been slow and frustrating. In one sense, I feel better, but in another, I seem to be getting worse. I can hardly eat, I’m only eating small amounts at a time, and my head hurts more than usual.
Yesterday, the doctor came over and took some bloods because I had been feeling dizzy and nauseated. I almost fainted two days ago when I got up from a seated position. The doctor took my blood pressure and told me it was low. That could be the cause, but he wants to run further tests to rule everything out.
“Dr Mason called. He should be here in about ten minutes with the results of your test.”
I look up from reading my gossip magazine to smile at David. He’s been my rock ever since that day. He tends to all my needs, no questions asked, and doesn’t expect a single thing in return. A part of me wonders why he would do all this simply out of the goodness of his heart. No one is ever truly that good. Surely not? But, then again, if he does want something, he certainly hasn’t asked for it yet. A part of me wonders whether he will try it on. In fact, I expect he will after my recovery. David may be a lot of things, but he’s certainly no saint. I know from experience just how sexual he is. In many respects, he and I are very much alike. We both crave sexual attention. We both desire to be wanted with a passion that consumes us.
But, alas, David has been a saint. Not once have his hands lowered past my shoulder. Not once has he said he wanted sex or asked me if I needed it. On my good days, I do desire the flesh. It’s something I can’t help. I dream a lot, and sometimes Richard crops up, taunting me—touching me. Doing everything to me apart from giving me the one thing I crave. I wake up at times gasping for some sort of release that, so far, only my hand has provided.
“What’s the weather like outside today?” I ask, changing the subject. I don’t want to think about the doctor at the moment. I’m tired of feeling sick. I know something’s wrong, and I’ve been desperately trying to push it to the back of my mind. If I don’t think about it or acknowledge it, then it doesn’t exist.
“The leaves are changing on the trees already, and the wind is picking up. Autumn is already upon us before it’s even had a chance to begin.” He notices my expression and so walks over to sit by me. “You must be going stir crazy by now.”
He can read me like a book. Since I’ve been at David’s, the only time I have left the house is to walk around the grounds. I’m scared to leave just in case anyone recognises me. “I’ve been thinking about that,” I answer. David nods for me to continue. “I thought about changing my hair colour. Do you think blonde would suit me? At least then I could leave the house.”
Picking up a strand of my hair, David smiles. “I love your natural colour, but if you think you should change it, I could certainly call in an expert to guide you.” He then looks down at my white cashmere sweater and jeans that he bought me a while ago. “And what about clothes? I can get you some more if you need them?”
I chuckle lightly, placing my hand on his. “You’ve done more than enough for me these past couple of weeks. Besides, you’ve picked out some nice outfits. You’ve bought me more than is necessary. But yes, I would like help with my hair.”
David nods, getting up. “Then I know just the person to call.” He walks toward his phone when the doorbell rings, alerting us to a guest. David foregoes making his call for the moment and walks towards his security monitor. “It must be the doctor,” he says before lighting up the screen. He then presses a button. “Good morning, Dr Mason. Please, come through.” David presses another button and then swiftly walks towards the door to let the doctor in. I hear the car coming to a halt before a door opens and shuts swiftly. I see David smile, his hand gesturing to the good doctor. “So nice to see you again.”
I watch as he walks through, wiping his feet on the welcome mat by the door, before looking up to find me sitting on the sofa. I rise to my feet, smiling before holding my hand out. “Thank you for coming.”
Dr Mason smiles mischievously before saying, “No need to thank me. It’s what David pays me so well to do.”
David shakes his head in amusement, but as quickly as the banter starts, it abruptly halts when the doctor looks back at me with a serious expression. “Is there somewhere we could talk more privately?”
I gulp a large lump of fear down, and it takes root in the pit of my stomach. This is it. This is the day I find out I’m dying of some disease—maybe even cancer. I think I’ve convinced myself of this so well that I’m starting to believe it to be true.
“I will leave you two alone,” David offers, making a move to leave.
“No!” I shout, finding my voice. David turns around to look at me. “Whatever the doctor has to say can be said in front of you. No secrets.”
David frowns. “Are you sure? I can leave. It’s not an issue.”
I smile. “I’m sure. Please stay. I’ll only end up telling you later anyway.”
David makes his way towards me as the doctor inhales a breath. David offers for him to take a seat before sitting next to me, taking my hand in his. I welcome the comfort. Lately, David has this knack of knowing exactly what I need when I need it. I look down for a moment, but then David squeezes my hand, causing me to look up. His face is determined. I know what he’s saying. “We’ll get through this.” I offer him a soft smile.
The clearing of a throat makes me look in the doctor’s direction. “As you know, I took your bloods yesterday. The results came back in this morning—”
“Have you found something?” I ask, interrupting him.
His forehead crinkles a little. “Yes, I have found something. Something I believe you weren’t expecting.”
“What?”
“You’re HCG levels are significantly higher than they should be.”
At first my mind goes blank. I blink rapidly wondering if I’ve heard right. “You mean I’m—”
“Pregnant? Yes.”
Rising up out of my chair, I start pacing the room a little. Tears sting my eyes, and my cheeks start to burn in anger. “How?” I ask, turning to the doctor. “How is this possible when I’ve been on the pill?”
“As you may already know, not all contraceptives are one hundred percent foolproof. Have you been ill in the last month or so? A stomach bug, perhaps?”
I start violently shaking my head. “No, and I make sure I take them every day. I’m extremely cautious like that.” I frown. I can’t be pregnant. How can I be pregnant?
“May I see the pills you’ve been taking?”
My head snaps from my thoughts and I look toward the doctor. “Of course. Let me go fetch them.” I notice as I run that David hasn’t said a word. Is he angry with me now? What must he think of me? I don’t even know who the fucking father is!
Shit, this is messed up. How can I plan my revenge now when I’m carrying a baby? A baby who could be Reid’s or Stuart’s.
Shit!
As I quickly grab my pills, it dawns on me. I have to have an abortion. There’s no other choice. I close my eyes as pain rips through me from the inside out. I had an abortion once and swore that I would never go through something like that ever again. I may be a heartless bitch, but I value a baby’s life over my own—over anyone’s. I may have quelled the nightmares from aborting my baby all those years ago, but it still haunts me from time to time.
In a daze, I walk back out to find the doctor and David in a whispered conversation. As soon as David sees me, he stops, looks up, and smiles. I approach Dr Mason, handing him the tablets. He inspects them, checking something on the packet before finally popping one of the tablets out. He holds it up in the air, squinting as he inspects it. Finally, he places the pill and the packet down on the table. “They all look okay, and they’re in date. Maybe you just
had a stomach upset, but you can’t remember.”
I sigh, sitting back down on the sofa. “Obviously, they’ve been of no use to me whatsoever.”
He nods. “I know this has come as a shock to you, so I will leave you to have a chat.” He rises and grabs his bag. “Call me whenever you’re ready to discuss your future plans.”
I nod, but don’t say anything. I’m too busy staring in shock, still unable to comprehend how this happened.
“I’ll see you out,” David says, rising from his seat.
I watch as he follows him to the door, shakes his hand, and thanks him before closing the door. A part of me wonders if David will want to get rid of me now. What use am I being pregnant with another man’s baby?
David tentatively walks back towards the sofa before sitting close to me. “How are you feeling?” I look up to gauge his face. To my surprise, I see no trace of anger whatsoever.
I shake my head. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t. I don’t know what to do. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. I can’t be a mother, David. I just can’t. That means there’s only one choice.”
Grabbing my hand, he scoots closer. “Listen to me. There is always more than one choice—always more than one solution. Having a baby shouldn’t get in the way of anything.”
I shake my head. “You can’t say that. This baby will get in the way of everything! I can’t do what needs to be done when I have a crying baby who needs feeding and changing. And apart from that, I’m not mother material, David. I’d probably drop it on its head.”
David laughs lightly. “I think you’d be surprised at just how good a mother you would be.”
Finally, I look up to him. “David, I am homeless, jobless, and not only that, I’m downright sick in the head. Even I know that I should never, ever be a mother. How can I exact my revenge with a baby in my arms?”
“Number one, you’re not homeless. Your home is here for however long you want it to be. Number two, I’m sure a job can come at some point if that’s what you truly want. A baby shouldn’t necessarily get in the way of that. And number three, you are not sick in the head. Troubled, but not sick.”
I start laughing. “Oh, come on, David. You and I both know that’s not true. Look at what I did to everyone without a moment’s thought.”
“Yes, but only because of what Richard did to you.” He watches me visibly sigh before saying, “I think you know yourself that I’m not exactly innocent. Look at all those times you and I … with your mother only a few feet away.”
Even in my shocked state, I can’t help but smile at that. “I just thought you got off on the thrill of being caught.”
David places his hand lightly in mine and strokes it with the other. “I think it was partly that, but if I’m completely honest, the biggest part of me wanted for us to get caught. I wasn’t happy with your mother—even then. I think I had this dream that if we got caught and your mum left that I could somehow convince you to stay and be mine.”
This shocks me a little. “You truly felt that way about me?”
He nods his head. “Why does that sound so unbelievable? Yes, the sex was,” he looks away, flustered for a moment, “phenomenal, but I loved the rest of the time I spent with you just as much. I don’t know. You just seem to have this natural gift of making me want you. In truth, I want to be with you more than the air I breathe.”
That confession certainly takes my mind off of my predicament for a moment.
He must notice how shocked I look as he goes on to say, “Listen, I don’t want to frighten you. That’s the last thing I want. What was in the past is in the past. A lot has changed since then. You’re here now because I care deeply for your well-being. I want you to have this baby, and I want to help raise the baby with you. No strings attached.”
I shake my head, knowing this is too much. “No. I can’t ask that of you. How could you want to do this knowing full well that you aren’t the father?”
“Simply being the biological father doesn’t mean shit. If I’m lucky enough to have the baby growing up calling me Daddy, then a daddy I shall be.”
I close my eyes, unable to understand why he would do all this. “But why? I don’t understand.”
“I have no children, and I’m still young enough to be a dad. I’m only sixteen years older than you, so it’s plausible.”
As much as his words swim around in my head, I shake them off. “No. I can’t ask that of you. I need to get my revenge, David. I need it.”
“I know you do. And I won’t hold you back. Stay, go through your pregnancy, plan your revenge, have the baby, and once done, come back to us.”
Us.
If I had this baby, we would then become an “us.” David makes it sound so simple—so easy.
“Is he the father?”
Snapping my head up, I see the unease on his face. I could hide it from him, but he deserves better than this. I need to be honest. “It could be him or Stuart.”
“The guy who came to visit you after you—”
I nod, cutting him off. “Yes, that’s him.”
“You said he was water under the bridge. Do you think you will still feel that way if you’re pregnant with his baby?”
I nod. “Yes. I no longer think of Stuart.”
Part of that is true. Getting raped and almost strangled to death has helped to put a new spin on things. Reid is all I am focused on now. Reid and my payback of course.
“I’m so sorry. I’m being selfish. I’m imploring you to keep this baby when this baby could have been conceived in the most …” He looks away in disgust, before turning back. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you—no matter what your decision. Just know that I meant every single word. Will you at least think about it?”
I nod my head, knowing I could at least give him that. “Yes, I will think about it.”
Reid
After making an urgent phone call to Dr Mercy, I manage to secure an emergency thirty-minute consultation with her. I’m buzzing with the questions filling my head. Questions I’m not sure whether Dr Mercy will be able to answer. I need to know, though. But how can I ask her what happened to her without making it obvious that I slipped something in her drink last night?
Paranoia rips through me. What if she saw me and switched the drinks?
No. Impossible. I was extremely careful with how I slipped that shit in.
I’m stuck between a rock and an extremely hard place. My mind is awash with one question: what the fuck happened last night? I saw Scarlet in my dreams, and although that’s not unusual, what is is the fact that it all seemed so real. It was like she was really here with me.
I can’t explain any of this shit without sounding like I’m crazy. She’s dead.
Isn’t she?
Feeling like I’m going round in circles, I pull into the parking lot just outside Dr Mercy’s offices and make my way inside. I take the lift to the third floor and make my way to the receptionist.
“Good morning, Reece. Dr Mercy is expecting you. Go right on in.”
I thank her and make my way inside to find Dr Mercy sitting at her desk writing notes. She has a more conservative blouse on today—less frilly. Her glasses sit just on the tip of her nose, enabling her to look up once I enter the room.
“Reece, come on in,” she says, motioning for me to sit down in my usual seat. “You seemed really anxious when you called. Has something happened?” With a worried expression on her face, Dr Mercy gets up from her seat and takes her usual spot when I do mine.
As I sit, I rub my temples. I still have a fucking blinder of a headache. “What happened last night?” I finally ask her.
I look up to find her mildly confused. “What do you mean? Can’t you remember? You had a little too much to drink, so I helped take you to bed.”
“And that was it?”
She grants me an unamused look. “Of course that was it.” She leans forward. “What’s the matter, Reece? You look really tense. You’re
fidgeting, and your right leg won’t stop shaking.”
Looking down, I see she’s right. Shit. What the fuck is wrong with me? In an attempt to try to calm myself, I place my hand on my knee to stop myself from shaking it up and down.
“I can’t remember a thing about what happened. I woke up this morning with sweat dripping down me because the air conditioner was switched off, and I never switch it off.” I look her dead in the eye. “Did you switch it off?”
Again, she looks affronted. “Why on earth would I want to switch your air con off? I have no reason to. I helped you up, put you to bed, and when I saw you had passed out, I left. Your barman saw me leave.”
Sighing, I put my hand up. “Yes, Akilah already told me.”
Dr Mercy takes a long drawn out breath before slinking back in her chair. “What is it that’s got you so shaken? Did you have a complete blackout? Was that what that was?”
“I saw her,” I blurt.
Her forehead crinkles. “Saw who? Scarlet?”
“Yes,” I answer, with a little more venom than I’d intended.
She motions with her hand to carry on. “Tell me more. What happened?” She gets her pad and pen poised for my answers.
“I don’t fucking remember. All I do remember is that she was there, taunting me.” I rub my head to try and erase this confusion. “I’m pretty certain she was riding my cock.” I shake my head. “Fuck, this sounds fucked up.”
“She didn’t actually say anything to you?”
I try to think back on last night. All I can recall is a mass of blurry events. “I only remember red lipstick and her saying my name.” I’m pretty sure she asked me why I killed her, but I’m not about to divulge that little gem. It’s probably my mind playing tricks on me anyway. “She’s like a ghost—a fucking poltergeist that won’t leave me alone.”
I look toward Dr Mercy, and at first, she just stares at me like she’s trying to figure me out. “Your guilt combined with the fact that you can’t get over her death has caused these hallucinations to manifest.” She sighs like she knows she’s about to say something I won’t like. “I know I’ve mentioned medication before, but I feel it might be necessary at this—”
My Valentine: Siren #2 Page 5